THESE DAYS everyone agrees that it is all right for us and the Russians to live on the same planet. Still, every time we and Russia sit down to sign the bottom line in the joint-tenancy agreement, somebody brings up Star Wars, and off we go again, bickering over "how do we know you mean what you say . . .?"

So things are still about where they were when President Reagan and General Secretary Gorbachev met and almost signed a prenuptial agreement back in the '80s. Reagan, explaining why they didn't sign, said the general secretary told him what really worries the Soviet Union is that Star Wars research would teach the United States how to launch missiles from space.

It was this same gap in mutual understanding that a valiant band of California media people sought to overcome at that very time. The scheme -- which had already been tested in New England -- was that a dozen trustworthy California journalists would hold neighborly get-togethers with Soviet colleagues of similar character. Then, when the working media worked out their own differences, they would spread the gospel of understanding in their homelands.

My personal recollection of the first of these media visits is that it exceeded expectations. The two groups traveled the state together, enjoyed the hospitality of the private sector at bountiful receptions, and spent two weekends of discussion, formal and otherwise. I recall that all participants agreed they departed as friends, or at least (in the words of one concluding statement) "as fellow inhabitants of an ever-smaller planet."

This may not sound like much, but after a look back at the record of the long sessions at Pajaro Dunes and Ojai, it is a wonder the whole exchange didn't wind up in a bloody brawl. Here is what I mean.

ON BIAS IN REPORTING:

They: "Can't you show me one balanced story about our country? Your media describes the Soviet people as liars, cheaters, a tribe on the other side of the river ."

We: "I, myself, have reported some balanced and positive stories about the Soviet Union. And your TV stories do not reflect positively on the U.S."

They: "But who started it?"

ON ADVERTISING:

We: "Is there no advertising in your papers?"

They: "That is a good question. There is a little, but not much!"

We: "Successful papers in this country spend (advertising) money on news."

They: "We see advertising as ridiculous. We get in the habit of skipping over it. It would kill someone if you dropped the Sunday Times on them from an elevated location."

ON THE ROLE OF JOURNALISTS:

They: "In my paper, I try to find things positive between our countries and to emphasize that. But for you, news is when relations go downhill."

We: "An American correspondent does not conceive of stories as positive or negative, but whether it is new and interesting . . . We want to report interesting, objective news. If it brings down the government, so be it."

They: "And if it brings down the life of the common people, too?"

Among my own notes, I find a cryptic reference: "Pajaro Dunes breakfast incident." Because it was a singular incident, it never was included in the official records. But, singular or not, it is part of the tangle of misunderstanding.

It is still clear in my memory. I had joined a random group of five enjoying breakfast and an impromptu debate on Soviet-Mideast policies. One of those at the table was a Russian editor who had several times boasted how well he understood the United States through his studies of American tastes and customs. Another was a petite young woman who was an executive of a Southern California broadcasting company. She also happened to be black.

The Russian was bored with the Mideast topic. "None of this would matter to anyone," he said, "if Moses had decided to head southwest from the desert into the middle of Africa."

The group's collective gasp got through quickly to the Russian. Realizing his blunder, he pointed at our TV executive and came up with an unbelievable stab at penitence. "Why don't we all just make friends again and rub this nice young lady's black hair for luck," he said.

The "nice young lady," who was already out of her chair, simply hauled off and hit the Russian in the nose.

If there's a lesson (or punch line) in all this, it escapes me. Maybe it's simply that here it is 16 years later and we are all still alive on the same tiny planet.